Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1887-03-06

a. ~ svutnern soul surged in pail
WITHIN her, and at last she burst int,
wild sobs and tears. Poor litiIe nas
sionate maiden learning with sbar,
pangs OF humiliation that adm;rat;o,
ana attraction are not love. She foun,
relief In this outburst az or;ef an
wept herself quiet.
Presently Annunziata came in an,
looked wistfully at Francesca.
1.-The Signor Antonio bids mo AL
the signorina IL she will have IN,
flowers on the terrace the same az las
year 2" 80 '''o
81 do not care, 'Nunziata. I hav,
told You | do cot care for ANYTHING
an, my little one, do not say that
You wiz break old 'Nunziata's heart
Think of the Signor Antonio. too"
"Nunziata," cried Francesca. turn
ing her flaming eyes suddenly on III,
old nurse ego away this minute, ant
leave me in peace" Annunziata sighed
and went sorrowfully away. But in ,
very short time she returned again.
1.-The Signor Antonio goes to.mor
row to the market at V he bid
me inquire il he can do ANYTHING 10,
the Signorins." That wearisome, blum
dering Antonio again Always ques
tons when she wishes TO be quiet anc
watch the sun die over the hiIll
Nothing, nothing, 'Nunziata. WHY
does the Signor Antonio plague me
like this2 j am far too unhappy tc
want ribbons or lace. He should know
that"
Pardon, Signorina. Last year,
when the Signor Antonio started hur.
riedly without asking your will, you
were very angry and scolded him well. y
Francesca burst into tears. They were
all turning against her now. Even old
'Nunziata reproved her. They were
very hard, and she was SO lonely; oh.
so very lonely Babbo was graver than
ever, and stared at her as If she was
some strange beast, and the Signor Dot
tore was odious with his silly Jokes.
There was no one to whom she could
tell her thoughts. Oh, what torment,
to have no one to praise you and love
and pet you Quale tormento
"Che che !" cried Annunziata.
=" My angel, don't cry. Run down and
see what the Signor Antonio has done
in the garden" But Francesca felt a
strong sense of injury and would not
speak. The tears still welled into her
dark eyes, but she kept them fixed on
the hill behind which the sun had
dipped, and the tangled bars of changing
clouds above that streaked the rudy
skies. She never once glanced down
at the garden where Antonio was di-
recting the gardener.
Antonio's big, faithful herrt was very
sore. 1t ached all day for the little
maiden shut up alone with her sorrow !;
and it ached often with dull, heavy
pangs for himself; for the dream OF
life that he had been sweetly dreaming
in peace and trust was rudely broken.
The beautiful Francesca, the pearl Of
maidens, WAS i'll, and it was more than
whispered that she was pining for love
OF the brilliant English student.
What plans Antonio had made for
Francesca's future. How faded and dim
they grew in the cold light of this great
awakening. The world had turned
blank and chill. The little house in
the valley, with the cool shady garden,
and the brook foaming down in tiny
cascades TO the Lieva, showed grim and
pitiless now. AS he passed through
the narrow streets of the town he could
not escape from the sight of the trea-
sures he had meant TO buy for Fran
cosca. They stirred him to wild regret
as they crumbled to dust and ashes in
the keen metallic glare of desolation.
Once they had been lovely friends,
now they grimaced at him in their
naked ugliness of stick, and brass, and
stone.
Could he ever have mistaken that
tawdry rag for fine embroidered cur
tain The fimsy gliding was already
half worn off that casket, yet there
had been n moment when it had seemed
worthy to hold Francesca's gloves and
the dried rose leaves and orange petals
she loved to scatter among her clothes.
Surely he was crazy when he thought
that clumsy plate of wretched majolica
would do for Francesca's table
Let them moulder on the dusty
shelves of the old curiosity shops they
would never be wanted now. But An
tonic was constant creature and he
was also an old family friend. More
over his home was on the banks of the
Lieva, and he could not go away as
gayer suitOrs did. So he stayed ON in
his dumb pain and tended the garden
in which Francesca used to delight
and served her humbly in the slavish
way that had become habit.
But Francesca never came out of her
room, and Antonio grew sick with long
ing to see how that lear bright face
looked under its cloud of grief. He
spent many evenings patiel thy with the
Professore, hoping for some word Of his
little lady. But the Professore, had he
been an Enelishman, could not have
taken less count of love with its culver
ing hopes and fears. He was seeking
from domestic cares in
new species of SiDhOnophora that he
had fished out of the bay, and was an
absent I. or at best, Prosy companion |:
4 great cry of grief came up to Fran
cesca's room from below, and then a
sonnd of Annunziata sobbing and wall
ing.
Francesca sprang up and moved 70
the door, but as her hand was on the
handle she paused. Francesca's heart
had grown bitter and hard under her
pain. She WAS angry with the world,
with Babbo, and Antonio, angry with
old 'Nunziata, and, most of all, angry
with herself and just because she was
angry with herself she began to wrap q
chill mantle of self-justifcation about
her. She and 'Nunziata had been rather
rstIanged of late, and the last few days
Francesca SAID TO herself that Annun-
ziata had been unkind and sulky.
Oh, yes; that was it. She was as
sullen as it was possible to be. She had
hardly spoken word. Francesca
liked to be spoilt and implored, al
though she turned away and cried;
Leave me in peace" Now, Annun-
ziata had some trouble. All, she too
would know the dreadful torment of
suflering when all around was smiling
with glee-smiling and beckoning
q Come; be happy, be happy J
Annunziata would now understand a
little of her pain. But only a little,
for the old can not feel with those awful
vivid thsobs which rend the eager being
Of the young. So Francesca turned
back with her worst feelings upper